It was only a song and there existed no reason for that to hold her. It was only a song, he said, and she agreed. Only a song, she said, but when they walked away together, his hand held hers, and her mind held only the music.
II.
I wanted to taste blood but it couldn't be my own. It had to be someone else's blood. I knew my own too well. My blood was like oil. My blood was disgusting. I wanted to taste blood. Real blood. And I knew who to find it in. Her name was Amy.
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